On my afternoon walk recently I hunted for possible sign of owls. Signs of owl? Sign of owls? Hmmm. Anyway: I was looking for owl pellets, under likely trees - often evergreens, that provide cover. Pellets are the wadded leftovers of owl dinner: fur, bones, bits that used to be animated and cute and hat now look like parts of an archaeological dig. And there they were, under a tree where they definitely weren't a few weeks ago. I looked up.
Hello!
I took a phone picture that day. Not good in the darkening afternoon, but proof of life.
Today, the Frenchman and I went back, and there was the owl.
A wind-tossed great horned owl. Bubo virginiana. Why horned? Why not great eared owl?
But magnificent.
If you want to find owls, look down. Then look up.
It is the longest night. Be thankful that you are not a rat.
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